polarvoid | Inbox for ryslig

[ Basil moves, and her hand slips off his head. It remains hanging in the air for a moment, weak and damp. His natural fire's started to warm her, dry her—but only a little.

Now, she's stuck staring at his eyes. That's not right.

This isn't right. ]

Wha... [ Her mouth feels dry, which is funny, considering how much lake water she's swallowed today.

If she asks him, he'll have to answer. That thought lays unbidden in the back of her mind. ]

I don't...wanna leave you.

[ Here, huddled on the ground in a dark room, gentle blue glow enveloping them... It feels like Max is back in the attic of the Creel House. There, she ripped herself open voluntarily, and for her troubles Vecna spun her a vision wherein her worst fears came true—that when those she loves most hear what's in her head, they'll reject her.

They'll egg on the pain dragging her down into the depths of her own misery.

Is this like that? Are her and Basil...more similar than she'd realized?

Max holds as firm as she can to his tail. It's not firm at all, and if he wants he could probably pull it free, but still. ]

I... I thought everyone would leave me too. If- if they knew. So... I pushed them. I- pushed all of them away, instead. So...they wouldn't know what kind of person I am. How much [ a swallow of nothing, her lips trembling ] I wa- wanted to die, how much I- prayed for something...terrible to happen to me.

[ It's happening again. That attic, only filled with blue light, where she spilled her guts. Where she died. Even though it feels like she's a step from death again, she's not there. This isn't there. She keeps reminding herself that.

And she keeps talking, more voluntarily than she could've imagined. ]

But if I'd s-said something, sooner, maybe... Maybe it wouldn't've turned out like it did.

[ Bleeding so much she went numb. Eyes white and milky. Unable to even feel Lucas' arms around her. ]

If I'd talked to the- the people who loved me, maybe... I wouldn't've... [ This one she holds in. Because if she says it, it'll derail everything. She bites down on her lip, just staring into his inexplicably frightening eyes, until the wave of pain passes. ]

I want- to stay. I want to- listen. I want to listen to you.

[Basil and Max are more similar than either of them realize. Their circumstances are different, but...on the inside, they share the same struggles. The same demons. Never once has Basil felt secure enough to go to someone and tell them he needs help, because preserving the status quo had been too important. He was the one to make the snap decision that night, because if he hadn't...to this day, he has no idea what might have befallen them. But in the end, what happens to him...it matters so little, compared to the secret he's kept this whole time.

If he gives it now...it will be over. Even though he's so far from home...he's convinced himself of that fact.

...but then he remembers. There is one other, isn't there? And a promise they'd made.

So many promises. One day, Basil will be so burdened by them that he won't be able to take it anymore. But as the truth dances on the tip of his tongue, he realizes it's his only escape.

For a moment, his eyes dart. Then, he's reaching for Max's free hand, holding it tight in his own. It's warm, but not hot.

He wishes he could talk about something else. About Max...literally anything. But that, too, feels selfish. To focus on someone else's struggles, to try and hide from his own...]

Y...you have to promise me. Promise, you won't tell anyone.

Please.

[He has no more time left, after this. He can't put it off any longer, as the violin screeches through the window, frantic and spiraling.]

[ Max doesn't like promises.

Whenever they're made to her, they always end up being broken.

But right now, as she sits here, she remembers, "Do you accept the risk?" and where it got her, and how in the end she'd do it all again, if she could help her friends.

All of it. ]

I promise. [ She tries to squeeze his hand, but she's too weak. ] I promise, I won't tell.

[He's sorry, Max. He had to ask, because he knew...you couldn't lie.

Which means when he tells you his story, you will really keep your promise.

...but that doesn't mean he isn't already crying, before the words leave his mouth. He can't help it, it feels so much like this is going to be the end. Even Katurian, who knows so much, doesn't really KNOW. He doesn't know the full story, and how Basil was the orchestrator of the entire lie.

But even through his tears, Basil speaks, because he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. He's...not even sure if he's telling this on his own terms, though he wishes he could see it that way. It would make things so much easier.]

Back home...four years ago. I u-used to have a group of friends. We were all really close...and we did everything together. They were...t-the first real friends I ever had, and they meant everything to me.

Sunny and Mari were brother and sister. T-they were going to have a music recital...with Mari playing the piano, and Sunny on the violin. We...we were all supposed to head to the auditorium together, b-but...I decided to hang back to wish them good luck.

I came in through the front door...but I could hear yelling. They were arguing, at the top of the stairs...S-Sunny...he'd thrown his violin onto the ground. It was all broken...

...and. And then he-

[Basil tilts his head up a little, looking past Max once more. The eye bears down on him, and for a moment he fears for his life. If Max wasn't there, he could have stopped this by now.

But he continues, even as the words pitch high in the back of his throat, distorted by his sobbing.]

No. Something pushed her... [He exhales deeply, smoke ekeing its way past his fangs. He feels sick.] And s...she wasn't moving.

I c-couldn't...if I didn't do something, they'd all think Sunny did it. He'd never do something like that! He's a good person!!

[Like they aren't.]

.....I dragged her to the backyard. I...I hung her. It looked just like...like she...

[...]

Something killed Mari.

Something ruined all of my photos.

I didn't say anything...

...I'm scared.

[ Max listens.

She said she wanted to, and she does. She promised. She won't break it. She's been handed something so, so precious, and she won't break it. His most vulnerable parts. The things that could destroy him.

Basil looks behind her, and Max almost follows his gaze. Now, however, she's starting to understand.

It's like Billy. A creature got inside Basil's friend, Sunny, and he did things that he would never do.

(It isn't exactly like Billy. Billy still hurt her—but, he wouldn't have tried to kill her. He wouldn't have grabbed for her, screaming about how he would gut her—)

He killed his sister and Basil, out of fear for his friend, covered it up.

Max blinks out tears. She doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what to say. Everything's coming up blank, except for one thing, as she keeps holding his hand— ]

I... I get it. I understand.

[ She sounds breathless. She feels breathless. She'd forgotten how that felt until today. ]

I don't hate you. I— Basil, I'm...so sorry.

[Basil's jaws tremble. He looks back at Max with wide, disbelieving eyes, because he was certain that the moment the truth left him, she would realize how much of a lie he'd been living this whole time. He's not good, or sweet, or any of those things. He's fucked up, he's a liar, he's the monster who ruined his friends' lives for so many years. It's no wonder they all fell apart. No wonder Sunny became a recluse. No wonder Aubrey hates him. No wonder Kel made new friends. No wonder Hero left for college, depressed and despondent.

He ruined everything. Their wonderful lives, their happiness...

Now Basil is really crying. Not barely restrained, whimpering cries, but full-on, body wracking sobs. He wails, choking on his own breaths because there's nothing left to hide anymore.

He hates how his shoulders feel a bit lighter, having finally told someone, even if it isn't someone who could really do anything about it.]

I h-hate it, Max! It hurts! And n-now...now Sunny is leaving me, he's m-moving away...!

[Away is said with an unusual amount of vitriol that drips from the word, like Basil is incensed at the idea that Sunny could just...leave him, like that. Alone, to carry this burden by himself.]

...b-but maybe...

[...]

If I'm dead...it doesn't m-matter anymore, does it? If I died, it wouldn't matter.

[Basil at this point...has nothing left to give. He has more he could tell her, sure, but this is obviously the big one that's been haunting him. And now he seems smaller than ever, hunched up and shivering as he pulls his wings around himself. And maybe, for the first time, Max will see them.

Eyes, on his wings. Staring up at her.]

[ I just want you to take me away.

Max watches Basil sob with wide eyes. She watches him, so completely open for perhaps the first time. Wailing and sobbing in front of her, as she holds his hand, his tail.

And I want you...to make me disappear.

Her confession in that quiet attic. The first time she'd said it out loud. The very first time she acknowledged it, to anyone, to herself, didn't just let it float around in her head.

The blue lights. Back in that quiet attic, now she's the one standing on the sidelines like Lucas, listening. In the vision, Lucas spoke up. He condemned her. It was something he'd never do, but Max fell for it anyway, in her emotional state. Vecna could've spun anything and in the moment, she would've believed it. She was vulnerable. The most vulnerable.

Like Basil is, right now.

Max pulls with what little strength she has on Basil's hand. She wants to pull him into a hug, the tightest one she can manage right now. ]

No. No, no, no it- it matters. It still matters. You still matter.

[ The eyes stare at her. The eyes on his wings. It's terrifying, unnerving.

But it's also dark. With the little light and her own damaged eyes, it's hard to study them.

And what matters most right now is Basil, anyway. What she says to him, in this moment, matters. And her mouth, as it always does, goes without her permission.

Thankfully this time, it doesn't say anything she disagrees with. ]

I'm sorry. I'm so, so so- sorry, but you- you matter. You matter so, so much.

[The night Mari died, Basil didn't have any support. Sunny had Basil, but it would be a far cry to say that Basil had Sunny, who was catatonic and nonverbal the entire time. Basil was the one who told Sunny everything would be okay, when in reality, all he'd wanted was to hear those words said to him, just once. He knows it's selfish, to want something like that so desperately...but when you've been alone for as long as he has, it's hard not to.

So when Max settles into that postion all on her own, it's so overwhelming that it's almost too much. Max pulls his hand, and she barely needs to exert any effort now to get Basil to move. He practically falls into her arms- though not so much as to knock them both over- his own wrapping unconsciously around her because it's what he needs, right now. The compulsion to bare everything has worn him down and exhausted every terrible thought, leaving him feeling hollow like he's been scooped out.

You matter.

Basil's grip is weak, but he holds onto Max in return. He hugs her, and though he can still see It in the corner, he's able to more easily ignore its presence watching him as they kneel on the floor together. She's...so cold, and normally that might be more of a problem, but Basil's heat balances it out. Between the two of them, somehow, they make up one normal body.]

...I d-don't deserve you.

[He suddenly whispers, his head laying gently against her shoulder now.]

A-all that stuff...you said...

[Basil shakes his head a little, tail curving around the both of them.]

Y-you've proven it wrong.

[ Basil's empty and hollow. But despite how much she hurts, despite how broken, Max still feels so, so full. The violin sings in her drooping ears, especially as he tries to reassure her. His head lays against her shoulder, and hers lays against his as well. She's still shivering, despite how warm he is. ]

No. No, I'm... I'm still- n-not a good person.

[ He's so warm. So, so warm and he's wrapped around her sick, aching body. Max's own tail, laying limp, curls to a spiral. ]

You remember, don't you? In the...the fog. I know you- heard him. My stepfather- my...ex stepfather.

[ Screaming on the other side of the door, letting her brother die.

Max blinks away tears. ]

I wanted him to die. [ Her voice wavers, but she continues. ] My brother. I... I prayed...f-for him to...for horrible things to happen to him. I- imagined it. I imagined him- crashing my- his c-car, and never- ever coming home again, 'cause I thought- it'd be better.

[ A horrible pit in her stomach. Her legs, sprawled out to the side so she's not putting weight on them, shake and tremble, prompting more red moss to slither out. ]

It wasn't. It made- everything so, so much worse, and I- he saved us and I wanted to- I stood there and watched and he- s-said he was sorry and I k-kept- begging him to wake up, I w-wanted him to die, I wanted it bu- but I didn't. I didn't!

[ Her admission and insistence break into sobs, like those in the Pale Fog. Crying onto his shoulder, body hitching. Basil explained, as best he could, but Max can't even begin to. The Mindflayer, Vecna, all of it. ]

[As Max had given Basil the same opportunity (or, rather, was forced to since he would have blubbered it all regardless), Basil listens to what Max tells him in return. And it...understandably, is shocking. He does remember, though he wishes he didn't. The way her stepfather yelled frightened even him, someone who has never experienced that kind of abuse. His parents didn't seem to want or be around him, but that spared him a worse fate. He can hardly imagine it, yet he heard it all for himself...

It's terrible, all of it. Especially when Basil can't...blame Max for thinking like that. He's no stranger to his thoughts going to incredibly terrifying and dark places. Even back when he was 12, and somehow knew how to perfectly tie a noose using a jumprope. Max, it seems, struggles with the very same. Not just terrible thoughts turned inwards, but those turned out as well.

Her explanation of events is fragmented and a little confusing, but even without the full context, Basil is able to piece it together. Her stepbrother died...and Max feels that she could have done more to save him, or anything at all, but didn't. She's struggling to cope with that fact.

She wanted it, but she didn't. Not really.

And as she battles between the two ideas, Basil tightens his grip on her. He renews his hold, realizing that this awful magic isn't going to stop tearing them open until they've got nothing left to be unraveled.]

M-Max...

[He turns his head away from the corner, instead looking at the side of her head. He can feel her antler knocking into his horns, the way it's drip-dripping against the top of his head. He doesn't care that it is.]

You're not a bad person. A-and...if I can still matter, after what I did...then so can you.

[His claws squeeze her tighter, yet they manage to stay gentle regardless.]

Y-you...you were hurting. Suffering. Just because you thought those things...even if you meant them. It doesn't m-mean you're bad. It doesn't make it your fault.

You...you didn't do anything wrong.

[That, he says with conviction.]

[ The only reaction she's ever had was Vecna's, manufactured to hurt her.

"You ever have thoughts like that about me?"
"Normal people don't fantasize about killing other people, Max."
"I thought you were getting better. But you're not, are you? You are sick."

The lie's all she's had, and overtime, it's become her one and only truth. Her single reference point for how someone would react. It was what she feared. It's started to paste over what experience and logic dictate Lucas would've said—that it was okay. That she'd been through so much. That he didn't hate her.

It's just what Basil's saying now.

Max cries so hard it hurts. So hard her useless organs ache inside her. She tries shaking her head, but she's trembling. She's shivering too hard to do much but sob until she starts to cough.

And...keep coughing. She worries for a moment she's going to cough until she breaks apart. Wouldn't that be awful, literally crumbling in Basil's arms, dying again literally on top of someone she cares about?

It turns out it's not that, however, and she realizes with only moments to move, very suddenly starting to shove Basil away. It may look like she's rejecting his comfort, but that's not it, truly!

She's merely trying to put some distance between them so she doesn't cough the water that's been stuck in her lungs up onto his shoulder. ]

Agh— cr- crap—

[Between the two of them, it's amazing they're able to even stay upright from how hard they're crying. Basil cries a lot just as a general rule, but it's not usually like this. So full-bodied and all encompassing that it leaves you feeling sore and exhausted for days afterwards. It doesn't help that he's fighting to keep his fire contained at the same time, smoke occasionally exhaled with each gasping breath he takes, but fortunately not enough to cause them any problems. Maybe once or twice a spark tried to show itself in the back of his throat, but otherwise...

There is so much more that the music could compel him to talk about. His complicated relationship with Sunny. His fears about losing everything back home. His near constant worry that something is going to happen to his Grandma, leaving him truly alone. But before any of it can be tempted to rise to the surface, he feels Max shudder against him, coughing violently. He still doesn't know what happened to her out at Lake Fors, only able to guess at why she stumbled in all wet and injured. It could mean anything, in Ryslig, they just hadn't really had a proper chance to talk about it.

It isn't until Max abruptly pulls away and starts to cough up water that Basil feels truly alarmed, and...despite Max and her best efforts to push him away, he's already trying to get close again, reaching gently for her shoulders.]

Oh...oh no- Max! Max, are you okay!?

[ It's not the truth compulsion that stops her when she tries to say I'm fine but the continued coughing. Another round of water—oh, she'd really thought she got all that out earlier, and groans, shoulders heaving. ]

If... I try and say yeah... I think the freaking violin's gonna cave my freaking skull in. [ Grimacing and blinking out tears from this time the force of her body expelling what was left in her lungs, Max raises her head to look at Basil. ] I- I was trying to help. I wanted to make the music stop, but...

[ Voice scratchy, she starts to explain... And she shakes her head. ]

I'm- really, really glad you weren't out there. The song...changed. It...made people try and throw themselves into Lake Fors.

[What Max tells him...it chills Basil to the bone. And he makes a connection very quickly.]

I-...is that what...?

[It explains why she came stumbling into his room, soaked and waterlogged. She'd tried to go into Lake, and...she said she was trying to help, right?

Well, the how and why of it doesn't matter right now. Basil is overwhelmed- they both are, for different reasons- but none of that is going to mean anything if Max dies. He doesn't care that she's undead; he knows that doesn't mean anything here.]

Are...are you cold? M-maybe I can warm you up...

[He knows Max is cold as a baseline, and getting her too hot would be a detriment, but...]

What—? [ A small squint.

And then she straightens a little bit, wiping her mouth with her arm. ] Oh, like— Um, s-sure. I...actually am, kind of cold.

[ For a second it sounded like some kind of line—but like, sincere, because even after all this Max can't think of Basil as not sincere. At least not with his emotions. But then her brain catches up with her, and she gets it. ]

I think really I just- I need to get dry. And... [ She winces. ] Probably eat something.

[ Max wonders if she's going to start growing the moss again soon. Maybe over the injuries on her legs. ]

[Basil, especially right now when both of them are having such a godawful time, really does mean that in the most sincere way he possibly could. He's...been very careful of using his fire at all around Max, especially since he hurt her that first time. It's obvious even now that he's hesitant, because he still has moments where it can spiral out of control if he gets too upset or emotional...like right now, as a matter of fact.

But this is more important than how he feels about it. This is about Max, and thus it takes priority. That, and...honestly, they probably should both eat something, but fortunately the Palazzo is well stocked with their kind of fare that's easier to stomach than...well. You know.

For right now though, Basil sits back on his haunches again, bringing his hands between them. He's very, very careful not to touch Max as he holds them- palm up- and just...sits there, seemingly. And for a few minutes, nothing seems to happen.]

C-come on...please...

[But after some effort on Basil's part...the insides of his hands start to glow a hotter red, like a little warm heater placed between them.]

L...let me know if it gets too hot, okay? I'll stop.

[ His hands like that remind Max of sitting on the Palazzo stairs, her Walkman between them. It's late in the day. The sun's out, but not bright enough that it hurts her eyes. She can just be, sharing part of herself, in silence.

This moment... They're nothing alike. But the focal point draws the comparison, as they're about the same distance apart, and in the minutes she's waiting, she's utterly silent. It's only the way her eyes flicker from Basil's hands to his face that indicates she's not just a still corpse. She's just about to say that it's okay—he doesn't have to, they can just find some fans—

And then his palms glow, like a space heater. Her eyes widen a little, as she can feel the water sunken into her skin start to dry. ]

H... Holy shit. [ Max sounds breathless again. Perhaps it's just because she sounds so soft and scratchy with her sickly, slightly feverish appearance. ] You've b-been...practicing, haven't you?

[ She's been terrified of getting too warm. Ever since getting literally burned and how badly her body reacted, she's been so scared. But, she doesn't feels scared right now. If she did, she couldn't hold it back, would be blabbing without a second thought. But she's not.

It makes her want to reach out and hold his hand. She won't, because that would be dangerous. But she wants to. ]

Thank you.

[Basil nods, though he does still seem a bit hesitant about it all. There is a fine line between "warm" and "literally on fire" when it comes to being a Gargoyle, he's found, and since he's impervious to flames...not just his own? He could get way too hot and never realize it. He's accidentally just set his skin ablaze before while trying to test this out (which is why any practicing has been done outdoors, not in). The only reason he's doing it here is because this is a special circumstance...he needs to be able to do this, for Max's sake.

And so, his hands glow with warm light between them, and it's very much like sitting beside a space heater during the winter. He is so, so very thankful that this seems to be doing her good, and not hurting her...if Basil weren't feeling so miserable, he'd probably smile.]

U-uh huh...a little.

["A little" is an understatement. He's just glad that, for once since he changed, he can utilize this form for something...good. Not just for himself, but for someone else.

MOSTLY for someone else.]

When...when you're warm, a-and not wet anymore...we need to look at your legs. Okay?

[He's...really worried. Max was bleeding- well, "bleeding"- a lot when she stumbled in here, and the fact she can't even stand is even worse.]

[ It's maybe a little sad—if Max knew why he practiced so much, she'd be forced to verbally acknowledge that so few people have put in that kind of effort for her. She can count the number on both hands.

She shifts a little, gaze drawn to her useless legs. They aren't leaking sludge or moss anymore, but her wounds are still there, bite marks of varying sizes, holes ripped in her jeans and dead flesh removed. ]

Yeah- yeah, okay. [ A small shiver, not because of the flashes of cold that run through her body, but because she can feel her mouth opening again and— ] We can just- wrap them. There's no fixing them completely.

[ She grimaces in frustration and looks away, tongue heavy like lead. ]

Shit, don't- just forget about that.

[Basil hurts for Max. He knows he has his own troubles with the changes, but Max...hers are on a different level. Being alive, but dead...he's reminded of falling into the lake. How cold he'd been. Water filling his lungs, his entire body paralyzed.

Her heart doesn't beat anymore. She can't get warm.

But he can. He can.

So he keeps his hands close, not so close he could burn her, but close enough to help her get warm. Warm, and dry. He doesn't comment on what she says about her legs, because he understands. He just tilts his head a bit, his ears drooping.]

...I know.

[Is what he eventually mutters, because...well. The truth spills from him freely, especially now that he isn't trying to fight it anymore. Why bother? He's...tired. Hollowed out, and empty. There's nothing more he could say, save for...

He blinks his eyes hard a few times, taking a slow breath.]

B-but...it would feel better.

[ He catches her completely by surprise. Shocked, honestly, and she looks him right in the eye. ]

What? But I—

[ And her brain catches up with her. Realizes, what he must have thought she meant, and drops her eyes. Her body feels very heavy now, as what she doesn't want to say slips out. ]

No you don't. [ It's very quiet. Very reluctant and very wet. ] You- you don't know. No one does.

[ Her arms wrap around her. She keeps trying to clamp her mouth shut, but it won't. It just won't. At least it has the decency to be quiet, even though she still sounds so...damaged. ]

I- I wasn't- talking about what happened today, Basil. It's not because I'm dead that they don't work right.

[ Max feels herself seize up. That's the first time she... ]

[You don't know. No one does.

Basil is quiet. He doesn't...understand what she means. For the first time since all of this started, he's left feeling legitimately confused, like they've misunderstood each other somehow. Or, no...Basil has misunderstood something Max has said.

And once again, Max doesn't...stop talking, even when Basil is pretty sure she would have if she could. It would make him feel guilty for it being forced from her, if they hadn't already spent so much time together on the floor doing exactly this for...what feels like it must be hours, at this point.

His expression shifts to one of concern. He can't help it, it's...worrying. His ears- previously perked- droop low now over his shoulders as he leans just a little closer, trying to look at Max's face. The light flickers oddly off it now due to the glow of his own hands, red mixed with blue. In this light...she somehow manages to look alive and dead at the same time.]

...Max. What's wrong?

[ She's shivering. The glow, it's blue, like the attic where she died. It's red, like the wasteland where he killed her. And she can't— ]

Come on. You- you have t-to...have noticed. I g-get tired easily. I always need to- to lean. Haven't you seen how my- my legs shake? My arms?

[ Maybe she's hyperaware of it. Of how different it is now. ]

Before, I— [ She blinks, eyesight blurring. Her voice shakes. ] Something...happened to me.

[ A jolt of pain, and she starts to curl in on herself. ]

—I-I died! [ And just like that, the pain recedes. ] I was- k-killed, and the- the injuries- something...saved me, it- restarted my heart but the injuries, they didn't—

[ She feels sick. She squeezes her eyes shut. ]

They hurt. My l-legs, and- my arms, and m-my eyes, they- They n-never stopped- they always hurt!

[Max...isn't wrong. Basil has noticed, but obviously it isn't something he's going to bring up. He hadn't automatically assumed anything was seriously wrong, he just...thought it was due to her having to adapt to her new form. Having to walk with hooves would be hard for anyone, wouldn't it? Of course her legs shook...her body is undead now, with no pumping blood. She'd been living mostly on human-jerky for weeks at a time, of course she's been tired...

But Max doesn't just leave it to speculation anymore. She explains, and Basil feels his breath catch painfully in his throat. For a moment, his heartbeat shudders to a terrified stop.]

...y...you...?

[I died. I was killed.

Basil reflexively looks into the corner again, and...it's there, as ever. He only spares the presence a passing glance before he's looking back at Max again, his vision still consumed by the soft light between them, and now...the way she curls up small, as if trying to escape the reality of her existence.

...so that's why. Max, returning to life, only to be...

Basil swallows weakly around the lump in his throat. She's always hurting. All the time, those times she would stumble and fall, or struggle to keep going, she was...]

M...max...

[I'm so sorry, he wants to say, but saying so feels like it would be a slap in the face. But he isn't sure...what else to tell her. There's nothing that could make it better...nothing that will make her pain go away.

So instead? At least for the moment, he says nothing. But that doesn't mean he will do nothing.

He'll stop, if she pulls away. If she shows any sign of being afraid of it, or hurting. But...if Max allows it?

Basil will reach for and take her hands. Ever so gently, holding them within his own, which are still glowing softly with heat. It's probably quite warm for Max, but in a sort of...taking a hot shower warm kind of way. It's not burning her.]

Edited 2023-04-29 00:32 (UTC)

[ She's tried so, so hard to hide it. To ignore it. To not acknowledge it. But now, it's out there. That she's broken, and she won't go back together. Her outside matches her inside, you are sick, and the way Basil's voice shakes, how he trails off, she wonders if he's looking at her differently now. With pity, with dismay, because she's not the strong girl she's pretended to be. After all of this, it has to be clear—she's weak, so incredibly weak.

Her lungs feel like something's squeezing them as little gasps start to build in her. Breathing be damned, it's just uncomfortable. Her head's spinning, suddenly warm in ways that have nothing to do with Basil's warmth. Her eyes feel wet, is she really crying again, is this really what she's doing right now, is she really this pathetic—

Warmth.

Warmth, like a heated blanket. Like a cup of soup on a cold day. Like a spring California night, walking under the pier, right before it'd get too hot and stifling.

All centered around her hands, stiff and tense in her lap.

Max's head whips up, her eyes snap open, and she looks into Basil's eyes, tears falling from her own. She's still small, and she's still vulnerable. But what he looks back at her with...

It doesn't feel like pity.

Before, she'd pulled him into a hug for his own sake. Because she felt that Basil needed—deserved that sort of physical comfort. Now, it's for her own that she pitches forward to lean her forehead against his shoulder, her fingers uncurling from their almost claw-like position and slipping between his, so that he doesn't let go. Her broken antler swings from the sudden motion, dripping bloody velvet onto his floor, and her whole one probably presses into the side of his head.

But, for the first time since she was pulled from the water, Max has stopped shivering. ]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 * CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS has joined 018.07.154.55 <Daisy>This is Basil! I'm not around right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back to it as soon as I can. <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- sample for when you ban someone <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <USERNAME>** First sentence of message.

Inbox for ryslig

cw: suicidal ideation

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MAJOR omori spoilers do not pass go do not collect 200, cw: death/suicide/suicidal ideation

And Then Max Misinterprets Omori, cw: domestic abuse

cw: suicidal ideation

cw: suicidal ideation

no subject

cw: domestic violence, homicidal ideation-ish, car crashes, abuse logic

cw: domestic violence/depression/suicide

cw: mild emeto

no subject

cw: hypnosis, drowning

no subject

cw: cannibalism

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: drowning ment

cw: internalized ableism (re: chronic pain and disability) coming up

no subject

no subject

cw: cannibalism mention, hallucination

cw: self-loathing, internalized ableism, panic attacks